Lowest common denominator. Again, this math concept came back to me as I have been listening to the election coverage and heard it being used. I know what you are thinking, politics and math? It was actually Stephen Hawking who used it, and while he was talking about a particular presidential candidate, I actually think about this all the time. It is pretty funny because it is a mathematics term, and I hated math. As I am getting older though, I am finding that math is making its way into my everyday life more often. The best is when I use algebra as an object lesson for my sons. My mother, the math teacher, would be proud. My sons though, are pretty much over it.
Back to my point. I find that in a lot of things, people tend to go to the lowest common denominator. Myself included. I always wonder why? Whether it is comedy. Where most jokes nowadays are more hurtful than funny, but everyone laughs. Or it could be politics, where we jump on a bandwagon of the candidate who is talking the loudest, singling out an enemy and promising what they are going to do for you. Or even the church where we pretend to do instead of really doing what we believe, because it is just easier that way. Again why? Maybe we are working, trying to make ends meet? More concerned with getting the kids picked up from daycare than who will be the next councilman, senator or president? Worrying about our weight, health, jobs, spouses and children. Which are all good things to worry about. Too tired at the end of day trying to make life better, that we don’t have the energy to really ask, what makes a better life? Too distracted to ask ourselves, do I really want to live a “lowest common denominator” kind of life?
I know that is a life I really don’t want. Unfortunately, I believe that is a life I have lived too much of already. So I am now trying day by day not to accept that “uncommon” life as my own. It is harder than it looks. I get up, I write, I read my bible, exercise (ok so not every day yet), and I try to be encouraging. Every day I fight the desires to wallow in self-pity, doubt, fear, pride and anger. (Well that was an honest sentence for you) Each day is a new opportunity, and maybe more importantly a different opportunity. So I take strength in the words of Paul, the man who wrote most of the new testament not the Beatle. “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.” He sounds as confused as I feel many times, but I love his honesty. I take great comfort in the fact that if Paul didn’t have it all down on his own, than I am not doing so bad. My Mom was right when she said, “it’s not what you know, but who you know”, and for that uncommon life, I am counting on Him being my Who.
If you want to check out where Paul said that: Romans 7:15 NIV
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she has for me that I am waiting for. The crumbly hard shapes that fill my stomach and nourish me. It is not what I am used to, nor is it the way my story started. I once had a home, a place where I belonged. I was born there, I lived and was happy. The change happened so abruptly, as if it was a dream. One day I was beloved in a happy family, and the next I was a wandering soul enduring the heat and unknown. I am growing accustomed to my new life. It is not without peace, but it is just hard. Trying to find food, water, shelter and protection from the world. I used to have that, before that day, and I hope to find that again. Each new day is a victory, it means that I have survived to see another sunrise. It means that the memories of the goodness of life, have not been overshadowed by the pain. With each new sunrise comes the newest opportunity to be strong, to love and to show others that they can survive this life too.
and I were stumped? It might have been one of our children, or maybe even left by the previous owner. My husband then decided that some plywood he had could be used for my board. It was just the right size, and didn’t even have to be cut. The only item I had to purchase was some gorilla glue. So for under $5.00, I have my tap board. With that board, I will get some exercise, learn something new, live joyfully and continue to work on unpeeling the onion that is my life. Except now, I will be doing it to a different beat.
It was then I realized that I was probably feeling something. What though was the question? Gene is my youngest, so him graduating is something of a watershed moment for me. I mean, he really hasn’t paid attention to me for years, so there is really is not much difference in our relationship. All of my boys are pretty independent, but Gene was that way from a very early age. I will now be a mother to four men, instead of four boys. That makes me happy. I do not miss those boys, because they have grown into men that I like. They are not perfect, but they have qualities that make me thankful. They are loyal, love their family, love God and are more than willing to help a friend in need. Even to their own detriment. While we have made mistakes in raising them, they love us like we were the most perfect of parents. So today as we celebrate this graduation day I wanted to say to all of my men; Scott, Bob, Matt and Geno, I love you. You make me the happiest mom in the history of time!
Cheryl Mendoza 